All Chapters of The Wife He Buried Alive: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The rain was a persistent, miserable drizzle, the kind that seeped into the bones and made the world feel like a washed-out watercolor. It was a perfect day for a funeral, Victoria thought, though the one being mourned was already three years dead.From the shadows of a towering oak, she watched them. Her husband, Marcus Hayes, stood at the head of the small crowd, a picture of stoic grief. His bespoke black suit was impeccably tailored, his dark hair perfectly styled against the wind. He looked devastatingly handsome, a monument to sorrow. Beside him, her hand resting possessively on his arm, was Chloe. Her Chloe. Her best friend since childhood, now the mistress of Victoria’s home and the wearer of her rings.Victoria’s fingers, buried deep in the pockets of her trench coat, clenched into fists. The old, familiar rage, a ember she’d kept banked for three years, flared into a white-hot heat. This was the anniversary of her "death," the day her car had supposedly skidded off a rain-sl

Victoria didn’t go straight home.Instead, she drove to a secluded overlook on the edge of the city, the engine of her nondescript sedan humming quietly as the rain resumed its assault on the windshield. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, forcing herself to take deep, measured breaths.He knows.The look in Marcus’s eyes in the boardroom had been unmistakable. He hadn't just been confused by her sudden, sharp critique; he had been spooked by her presence. The way he looked at her—like he was staring at a corpse that had just sat up and asked for a cup of coffee—sent a dark, intoxicating thrill through her veins.But she couldn't afford to be cocky. Marcus was a cornered animal now, and cornered animals were the most dangerous. He was a man who solved problems with money and violence, a man who had looked her in the eye while she slipped into unconsciousness and left her to drown. If he even suspected she was Victoria, he wouldn't hesitate to finish the job

Victoria’s first week at Hayes Global was a masterclass in psychological warfare.She didn't confront Marcus again. She didn't need to. Instead, she spent her days auditing their systems, requesting seemingly innocuous files, and asking questions that made department heads sweat. She was a phantom in the hallways—polite, brilliant, and utterly terrifying. She learned the rhythms of the office, the weaknesses of the executives, and the cracks in the fortress Marcus had built.On Friday evening, she stayed late, working in a glass box of an office on the executive floor. The building was mostly empty, the distant hum of the cleaning crew the only other sign of life. She knew Marcus was still here; his office lights were on at the end of the hall, a silent challenge burning in the darkness.She heard the click of high heels on the marble floor before she saw her.Chloe appeared in her doorway, holding a thick file. She looked flawless, a living embodiment of the life she had stolen. Her

Victoria didn't go home. Instead, she drove north, away from the city, toward the only place where she had ever felt truly safe.It was a small, secluded cabin tucked away in the woods, miles from the nearest town. She had bought it under her new identity a year ago, using it as a retreat whenever the memories became too much. It was a place where she could be Victoria again, even if only for a few hours.She unlocked the door, the familiar scent of pine and old wood filling her senses. She lit a fire, poured herself a glass of wine, and sank into the worn leather armchair by the hearth.The flames danced in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Victoria stared into the fire, her mind drifting back to the night that had changed everything.She remembered the cold. The suffocating darkness. The feeling of water filling her lungs. She remembered the desperate struggle to unbuckle her seatbelt, the blind panic as she fought her way to the surface. She remembered draggin

The next two days passed in a blur of careful, calculated activity. Victoria worked silently in her glass box of an office, compiling evidence, cross-referencing financial records, and waiting for Chloe to deliver on her promise.She didn't sleep much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus's face in the boardroom, the flicker of recognition, the dawning horror. She saw the river, black and cold, closing over her head. She woke each morning with her heart pounding and her sheets tangled around her legs, the taste of river water still phantom-sharp on her tongue.But she didn't let it slow her down. She couldn't afford to.On Tuesday morning, a plain white envelope appeared under Victoria's office door, slid through the gap while she was in a meeting. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a series of numbers and letters written in Chloe's neat, looping handwriting—Marcus's server credentials.Victoria felt a surge of cold triumph. She had him.But she knew better than to act